Enough for now
by Ky03elk
Summary: "I brought dinner. I didn't know what you felt like so I got sushi, I got some Italian, got some Thai, even grabbed some hot dogs." He offered proof that what he said was indeed true and her lips turned up in a smile, even though her head ducked, the loose strands of hair falling to shield her face. Alternative ending to Sucker Punch. Two Shot.
1. Chapter 1

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**Enough for now**

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For Nic, a very belated Christmas present, but right on time for your birthday ;-) you nuisance prompt xoxo

Happy Birthday

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An alternative ending to Sucker Punch (2x13)

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* * *

The counter stood clean, sparkling almost. Every item that had cluttered the surface was now away in its correct place, and with it, order had been restored to her world.

With a tidy kitchen she could at least pretend that the wrongs were now right.

They weren't, though; nothing about this was okay.

Her mind raced a million miles a minute as she moved the dishcloth around the sink. Back and forth over the already polished area, her free hand reaching for the faucet; wiping it did nothing to wipe away the look in Coonan's eyes as he bled to death, and running her hands again under the chill of the water did nothing to remove the warmth of his blood as it bubbled up from underneath her hands.

The red stain had dried on her fingers, the crimson flakes cracking on her palms until she'd scrubbed and scrubbed, leaving her skin raw. The desperate attempt to save his life, to get answers was for nothing and now...

She was left with no way forward.

For a moment, she'd come so close to having answers, to hearing the truth, yet, it had all washed away.

The water out of the tap gushed with a ferocity that sprayed droplets up and onto her shirt and with a curse, she flipped it off, her elbows resting on the edge, her head falling into her open palms.

This day could not go more wrong if it tried...

The knock at her front door, of course, suggested otherwise, and dropping further onto the counter, her fingers raked through her hair, resting against the bare skin of her nape. Any attempt to hold it together - her head on her shoulders, her sanity in her mind - slipped a little further out of reach as the sound started all over again.

A little more timid this time. A little quieter. And with a body far too weary for her years, she shuffled across the room, curiosity winning.

Whoever was there didn't appear to be going anywhere, anytime soon, and, lifting her hand to the lock, she opened the door wide enough to peer through the gap.

"Castle?"

It had never occurred to her that he would come and seek her out after she'd fled from work without a word, that he'd show up here uninvited. She should have been... but she wasn't.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

She closed her eyes, the harsh edge to her tone unintended, and, opening them to gaze at him, she tried again.

"Sorry. I just... I didn't expect you. To be here"

"I brought dinner. I didn't know what you felt like so I got sushi, I got some Italian, got some Thai, even grabbed some hot dogs."

The plastic bags crinkled as he lifted them higher, offered proof that what he said was indeed true and her lips turned up in a smile, even though her head ducked, the loose strands of hair falling to shield her face.

Only he would spend one hundred thousand dollars on a chance and a prayer and then show up with dinner. And not just one dinner, but an array of food, anything her heart could possibly want.

"You didn't have to do this, Castle." The space created by pushing the door wide allowed him access and as he walked into the room, she closed it behind them, her back resting against it for a second.

"I know. I just…"

Whatever else was going to exit his mouth remained unsaid, as he turned on the spot, studying every detail of her apartment, and her breath hitched, the scrutiny almost too much.

The exposed fragments, the little pieces that she still concealed are on display here, in her home, and her eyes followed the same path of his gaze.

It was useless though - he saw her in ways that she wouldn't ever understand.

"Where do you want me to put these?" The question in his words mimicked the lift of his eyebrow and the placement of his hands as he held them in front of his body, and she stepped forward, taking one from him.

"We could…" the table seemed too formal for a dinner between _friends__,_ "… sit on the couch?"

Were they friends? Colleagues? Was there a definition to what was happening, to the concern that had seeped from every part of him as he'd pulled her back from Coonan's body?

Was there an answer to such speculation?

"I'd like that." A smile blossomed on his face, silencing the torment of her mind, and while it was probably only a temporary hush, she was willing to take it.

The walk to the couch was over before it had really begun though, and, placing the bag in her hand on the coffee table, she perched herself on the edge, both hands gripping her knees.

How was this suddenly so awkward?

The cushions dipped as he settled in beside her, a noticeable gap between them. This wasn't awkward - this was _stilted_, this was them at the start of… whatever it was that they were.

They'd moved past this.

* * *

He'd forgotten how to breathe. Hell, as he sat on the couch next to Beckett, he'd forgotten the simple task of forming words. The dinner he'd brought over was his way in the door, a way to check in on her, without actually _checking in on her_, and now that he was here, now that he'd accomplished that, there was only one thing he could do.

He had to tell her the truth, the real reason he'd shown up at her door.

"Beckett… I-"

"Castle?"

The soft whisper that escaped her lips halted his sentence, his mouth closing, and twisting on the cushion, he lifted his head inch by inch until his gaze finally met hers. Clear green eyes saw straight through him, appeared to see what he was fighting to conceal, her stare penetrating through the cloud that he'd been hiding behind, and even as he dropped his head, she chased after him, her hand reaching across the gap between them.

"It wasn't your fault, you know." The way she squeezed her fingers around his increased the thump of his heart, the anxiety that was traveling through his veins picked up its pace, morphed into a lightning fast race, but she had to hear the truth.

He had to step up and face the consequences that his actions had caused.

"I overstepped. I came here to say that I was sorry, and that I'm through. I can't shadow you anymore. If it wasn't for me…"

If it wasn't for him Coonan would be alive and she'd finally have a lead to go on, a way forward in her mother's case.

"If it wasn't for you I would have never found my mom's killer." Her fingers shifted, moving in between his until she'd curled their hands into a fist on top of his knee. "And someday soon I'm going to find the sons of bitches who had Coonan kill her, and I'd like you around when I do."

His head snapped up, his breath lodged in his throat because, of all the responses he'd imagined, this was never it. Locking his eyes with hers, his lips rose, a hesitant smile appearing on his face just for her.

"And if you tell anyone what I'm about to say there's going to be another shooting but… I've gotten used to you pulling my pigtails. I've got a hard job, Castle, and having you around makes it a little more fun."

He leaned forward, his free hand ghosting across her cheekbone before he snatched it back. There were boundaries that he couldn't cross, and his urge to place his mouth against hers, to pull her into his arms, had to be ignored.

"Your secret's safe with me."

It wasn't what he wanted to say, wasn't what he wanted to do. She'd given him so much tonight - a grace that he didn't believe he deserved, considering what had occurred in the precinct - but he'd take it. As she released his hand to reach for their dinner, he relaxed.

It was more than enough, for now.

* * *

Her body collapsed against the back of the couch, the Thai and the Italian, and the hot dog that they'd shared, settled gloriously in her stomach. The satisfaction that accomplished a wonderful meal was lulling her to sleep; her muscles were becoming heavy, her bones sagging as the comfortable lull between them descended onto her apartment.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed a night at home with good food and even better company, and the longer the night went on the more she realized she didn't want it to end.

Not that way, of course.

Her eyes closed, her mind shutting down on the thought immediately, because that, that was impossible, or at least improbable. Castle was entertaining and childish, and, yes, he was an asset to their team, but he wasn't more than that. He couldn't be more than that.

She turned her head to see his profile highlighted by the lamps glowing softly, and her teeth tugged her bottom lip into her mouth.

Why was the idea of getting off the couch and walking him to the front door so hard to visualize? They'd say their goodbyes and he'd go home, and tomorrow it would be back to normal…

The way their hands had brushed as they passed the food between them, the way his body had leaned into hers, his thigh warm against her own, as he joked about Martha, the way his tone melted as he spoke of Alexis' achievements. All of this lightness between them would go back in the box, and they'd pretend that none of this had happened.

But today, with a gun tight against his kidney, Castle had come close to losing his life, she'd come close to losing _him_, and what would she have done then?

"It's getting late. I should be heading home." His head turned towards hers, their eyes connecting as they both rested against the couch, and the image of him lying in the precinct's corridor instead of Coonan left her inhaling sharply.

"Beckett?"

"Yeah. It's late."

She pushed the flash of how wrong it could have gone aside, her body jerking as she stood, her hands gathering the empty containers from the table as her eyes did their best to avoid his.

He grabbed the other cartons, and they moved around each other silently until the mess was cleaned, and he drifted toward the door leaving her with no other option but to follow. This wasn't them, and it was time to get what they were back on track.

He was just the guy who pulled her pig tails…

"Thanks, Beckett. For what you said earlier. For- I know I've had to say it before in relation to your mother's case, but I'm sorry. Again. I'm-"

"Castle."

His name darted out of her mouth before she'd given any thought as to what exactly she could say next, but he couldn't carry the weight of this, it wasn't for him to bear.

With eyes that looked straight down at the ground, he leaned forward, his lips brushing her cheek. It was only the slightest of touches, but the heat of his mouth seared her skin, and her fingers curled into her palm, as she remained frozen on the spot.

"I'm sorry for what you lost."

She'd lost answers, lost leads, lost the chance to find out who was behind her mother's murder, but she could have lost him. It could have been his blood that had coated her hands. It could have been his chest that she'd desperately pumped without result.

It could have been him who she lost as well…

And she turned her head toward his.

* * *

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The second part of this two shot will be out in a couple of days xoxo

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Thank you to Jo (for the challenge to write my first past tense story and for cleaning up all the mistakes) and Jamie for the beta and the pompoms xoxo

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Thank you for reading xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

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**Enough for now**

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Happy Birthday Nic, the conclusion to your gift xoxo

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An alternative ending to Sucker Punch (2x13)

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She turned her head toward his, her mouth drifting across the slight stubble that lined his jaw until their lips connected.

The touch, the heat, was nothing she'd imagined, and yet it was everything she'd dreamed of on the days when their banter and innuendo crossed the line of teasing, leaving her with an ache that burned. On the nights when she'd read Nikki in the bath, and it wasn't her hands that slid between her thighs, it was Rook's.

It was Castle's.

His fingers buried themselves within her hair, nails scraping across her scalp, sliding down low, cupping her cheeks, and, as he held her face between his palms, he pulled back, and her breath caught.

"Beckett, are you... sure?" He swallowed, hard, and her gaze remained transfixed on his bobbing Adams apple.

Was she sure? No. This wasn't her, and this complication wasn't something that she needed in her life.

But...

Her teeth tugged his bottom lip into her mouth, putting an end to any further questions he may have had, because if his mind was short circuiting as much as hers was, there would be no further inquiries.

She sure as hell wasn't listening to any voice of reason.

It had been too close today and if the feeling of his solid form against her body hushed the fears that had sprung forth, catching her by surprise, then so be it.

One night. One night, and then they could go back to what they did best; ignoring the obvious, hiding behind smirks and smart ass comments.

One night had to be enough.

Her fingers tugged at his shirt, freeing the material from where it was tucked into his pants, and, exposing his skin, her nails scraped lines up and over his abdomen as she explored the forbidden.

A shudder rocked his body into hers, his chest a firm wall that shifted until they were flush, her hands trapped between them, and with nowhere to go, she flexed her fingers, the tips of her nails digging into his flesh.

Damn, he felt good.

His hands inched their way around her shoulders, until he was wrapping her in his arms, and she breathed him in, her lips widening as he sought access, his heartbeat a rapid thud against her chest.

It mimicked her own, the rush of blood loud in her ears, drowning out all the ways that this was going to go wrong.

* * *

With her lips opening under his, he transferred his weight forward, his arms drawing her into his chest. The desire to touch as much of her as possible before she twisted his ear, or tugged at his nose, declaring that this was a hallucination, overwhelmed every one of his senses.

And yet, as his hands skated low over the smooth planes of her t-shirt, the soft cotton of her yoga pants, he reached the curve of her rear in one piece.

Whatever the reason for this unexpected change in them, he needed to bottle this feeling now, needed to record every sensation, because for all the times that he'd written this, dreamed this, the actual feeling of touching her far outshone anything he'd ever experienced.

He nudged his thigh between hers, his hips knocking into her stomach, their height difference such a stark and unexpected notion that he staggered back a step, and all the progress they'd made uncoiled.

Damn.

The hesitancy in her eyes left him frozen in place, but she didn't look away, and as each second blended into the next, he took his life into his own hands, fingers curling around the hem of her shirt, the back of his knuckles grazing the toned skin of her sides.

A war raged inside her. He could see it in the tightening of her jaw, the line between her eyebrows emerging, and as he straightened his fingers along her ribs, he gave her a way out.

"What do you want, Kate?"

His lips closed on her name. Kate. Such a foreign word for his tongue and teeth to articulate, such an oddity for them, but wasn't this - his thumbs ghosting under the edge of her breasts, the taste of her thick in his mouth - the very definition of 'out of the ordinary'?

"Tonight."

It was all he needed to hear, and while he had no idea how he was ever going to be able to go back to what they were yesterday, if this was the price he had to pay, then hand him a pen; he was ready to sign his life's savings away.

Her shirt was the first thing to disappear. He lifted the material up and over her head, an incredible expanse of skin revealed with his actions, and, throwing it to the left of them, the shadows of the room swallowed it whole.

Damn, she was beautiful.

His fingers traced the straps of her bra, the blunt rim of his nails gliding over the swell of her breasts until they met at the clasp sitting low in the valley of her chest, and with his heart wedged in his throat, he flipped the clip open.

The way her shoulders shook was enough for the unlocked sides to shift apart, and his palms cupped the now free and heavy weight, his thumbs arching to trail a path over her soft skin until he circled each of her nipples.

"Castle."

He sucked in a loud breath of air as his name drifted from between her lips, the urge to hear it again and again a fist that squeezed his body tight, and, placing a foot between each of hers, he edged his hips forward.

It was apparently the sign that she'd been waiting for, and her fingers bent low into the gap of his pockets, her angled knuckles digging into his pelvis for a moment before she stepped back, her arms extending, encouraging him to follow.

Tonight. Tonight regrets were useless - he was lucky to be standing here after today - and striding forward, he skimmed his mouth across hers, across the ridge of her cheekbone, the line of her jaw, his hands caressing every square inch of her skin that was in reach.

He was probably not going to survive tonight, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of a better way to exit the world than buried deep within Kate Beckett.

* * *

The low light of her bedroom hid - hopefully - the creases that no doubt marred her forehead, the way her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip, the panic that was returning, and as she rolled onto her side, her back toward him, their combined sweat cooled on her skin.

Each breath exited her chest in a rasp, her naked breasts straining against the sheet as she tucked it around herself, the enormity of what had happened falling onto her shoulders, her eyes closing under the weight.

Their mouths had danced as one, finding a rhythm that not once portrayed how new they were to this, his lips staying on hers as they slowly made their way into her bedroom, and with tentative hands, she started at the bottom of his shirt, releasing each button.

Her fingers had stumbled as she'd drawn the material off his shoulders, the skin of his chest brushing feather-like against hers. The solid muscles of his arms, which he concealed underneath a vast range of expensive suits was now exposed, and her hands sought to smooth their way across every inch she could reach.

In those moments, when she'd allowed herself to cross that line in her head, when she created a scenario of how this would occur, them, _together_, she had always assumed that it would be hard and fast, angry and impatient. She'd thought that he'd wriggle his way under her skin until one day she snapped and they'd crash together in a tangle of limbs, teeth barred, nails clawed.

That when it was time to go back to who they were, that it would be easier, some uncertain looks and a "let's just forget about it." Not once had she thought it would be unhurried, deliberate, that she'd have the opportunity to feel, to absorb every second as it unfolded.

The way he'd cradled her to his chest as he laid her upon her bed, his elbows holding his weight as he hovered above her, his eyes drinking in every plain and dip of her body, mapping every detail, leaving her uncovered in the way only he could.

The way his teeth had nipped gently along her jaw as he worked his way to her neck; the feeling of his tongue against her skin was now a scorch mark that wouldn't fade.

The way her name had fallen from his lips, scarcely a breath, over and over as he whispered it into her flesh, a shiver breaking out through her body as he'd peeled away the last layers that separated them.

She'd tried to shove it aside, attempted to be oil to his water, not allow what was happening to be anything more than what it was, yet, as their bodies joined, her legs wrapping high around his waist, his mouth finding the tender spot in the arch of her neck, it all fell apart.

She fell apart.

And now, as he breathed deeply beside her, the effort to inhale a task just as difficult for her, she had to figure out what was to happen next.

Tonight was over.

Where did that leave tomorrow?

* * *

He'd always known that Kate Beckett was going to be the death of him, and as he lay frozen next to her, his heart thrashed, a bucking bull that could, at any second, kick its way through his ribs and out of his chest.

Granted, if this was what he died from...

The aspect that most surprised him wasn't that being with Kate could so easily bring about his demise. No, one look at her narrowed glare as she'd shredded him over one of his well-timed, rather clever comments had told him that. No, it was that his passing wouldn't be _just _because he'd been with her, it would be that there was a second, much more painful death had occurred.

It would be the moment in which he stood and walked out of her apartment. The way he would now have to pretend that he hadn't kissed her lips, that he hadn't touched her skin, that he hadn't broken into mind-shattering pieces inside of her.

He shifted onto his side, the sheet falling off his hips and he made a half-hearted attempt at grabbing for it, before letting it slide off; it wasn't like she hadn't seen it all minutes ago.

"I should...?" His fingers coasted across her bare shoulder and leaning forward, he rested his lips on the delicate angle of her neck, the taste of them perfect against his tongue.

He'd purposely asked rather than stated, hoped with all he had that she'd shake her head and indicate that he could stay, but as she remained facing away, she turned the tables around on him.

"Yeah… Tonight's over. Right?"

What she said was true; the hands on the clock would have sailed past midnight long ago, but did that have to mean that they were done? Was there any chance that they could face tomorrow together?

The hand that he had on her shoulder, drifted down her arm, his fingers finding hers, and knitting them together, he squeezed as his nose nudged along the shell of her ear, the front of his body closing the gap between them until he was flush with her back.

"I could stay? Until tomorrow?"

She pulled their hands up to her mouth, her lips peppering a kiss onto his thumb before her body relaxed in front of his, and he closed his eyes, the call of sleep whispering his name as her reply, a quiet hush, reached his ears.

"Stay."

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The end

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Thank you for all your wonderful words of support xoxo

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Thank you to Jo and Jamie for their behind the scenes polishing and editing xoxo

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Thank you for reading xoxo


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